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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162787">Don't Drink And Drive Your Car</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohemianGryffindor06/pseuds/BohemianGryffindor06'>BohemianGryffindor06</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Joger Week 2021 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Best Friends, Dealor if you squint hard enough, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, References to Depression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohemianGryffindor06/pseuds/BohemianGryffindor06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John is caught drink driving and is banned for a year, forcing him to travel to the studio by tube for the next six months. He becomes determined to deal with it on his own, but Roger isn't quite prepared to let him do that...</p>
<p>
  <i> “Anyway, enough with all that. Now that you’ve got a drink in your hand, I feel no guilt for getting straight to the point. Why didn’t you say anything about you and Veronica having problems?”</i><br/>John gaped at him, his glass almost slipping from his grasp.<br/>“Or that you’ve been banned from driving for a year? It’s been six months, John. Did you think we wouldn’t realize eventually?” 
</p>
<p>Day Two of Dealor/Joger Week</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Deacon/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Veronica Tetzlaff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Joger Week 2021 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Joger Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Drink And Drive Your Car</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rating for swearing, mention of alcoholism, depression.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>John’s heart hammered in his chest as the police officer stared at him expectantly through the car window. “Drinking? No, I mean, I’ve only had a couple.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside of your vehicle and take a breathalyser.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What?” John asked, attempting to keep the nerves from his voice. “There’s no need for that, surely. I was only going a couple of miles over the speed limit, and I’m usually a pretty careful driver.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m sure you are, Mr Deacon. But I must insist.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John’s hand shook as he reluctantly pulled on the door handle. He leaned against the side of the car, biting the edge of his lip as he watched the man prepare the machine.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“When you’re ready, I want you to blow into the mouthpiece for at least four seconds.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John sighed and stepped forwards. He waited until the man counted to four, and then leaned away again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The officer stared at the screen as the machine bleeped. “Unfortunately, it appears that you are over the limit, sir. Which means that I’ll need you to leave your car parked here for the time being whilst you accompany me to the station.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>John took a shaky step onto the tube and tried to ignore the pounding in his head as he sat down. He sighed wearily as it started to move off. He felt hot and sticky. The underground was always humid, but particularly in summer.</p>
<p>Just another six months to get through.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>He was allowed one phone call. To Veronica, asking her to pick the car up. In the morning, he was released on bail.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The man at reception handed him some paperwork and stripped him of his driving license.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’ll be able to reapply for your license in twelve months’ time, and you’ll be expected to pay the fine within the next seven days. Read the paperwork once you get home and return the slip at the bottom of the page, along with the cheque.” The man said as he looked at him from over the rim of his glasses. “Oh and Mr Deacon? Be smart enough not to repeat this mistake or else you may just find yourself facing a more severe punishment next time.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John nodded weakly and quickly got himself out of there, a headache already coming on.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>John fought not to cringe at the memory whilst people stepped off. That had been one of the lowest points of his life. There’d been a couple more since then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“How could you be so stupid?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John set his keys down and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “I thought I’d be okay. I’d only had a couple.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But why even risk it? Who was with you at the pub anyway?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No-one. I just fancied a quick pint before I came home.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Veronica’s gaze flickered over his face as he turned to pour himself a glass of water. “You went on your own?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes,” he said, struggling not to sigh as he took a sip. “I just wanted to unwind for a bit. You know what it’s like when we’re rushing to make a deadline in the studio.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Veronica hummed in response. “That’s been your excuse since you got back from tour.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He turned to find Veronica still watching him carefully. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Did you want me to go and collect the kids from Sue’s?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She shook her head as she collected her own car keys from the bowl in the middle of the table. “I’ll do it. Seems as though I’m the only one who can drive legally for the next year.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He frowned guiltily, avoiding her gaze as she headed towards the front door. Instead, he noticed the bowl in the sink was full.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll do the washing-up whilst you’re gone.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Get a shower too. I don’t want the kids to smell the alcohol on your breath.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then she walked out the door, taking what dignity he had left with her.</em>
</p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“John! Hey! Wait up! Where’s the fire?”</p>
<p>He frowned as Roger rushed to catch up with him.</p>
<p>“Not to be rude, but I’ve promised Ronnie that I won’t be home late so—”</p>
<p>“That’s alright, I won’t keep you,” Roger promised as he clapped him on the back and followed him out of the studio. “You’ve been rather quiet lately. Everything alright at home? See ya, Michael.”</p>
<p>John gave a strained smile as Michael, the security guard in the office looked up and waved goodbye. Then the two of them were stepping outside and into the warm sunshine.</p>
<p>“Everything’s fine,” John said, tucking his left hand deeper into the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get it. This album’s starting to drain everyone. It doesn’t help that it’s about thirty degrees outside, and the aircon is playing up.”</p>
<p>“Drawbacks of the British summer for you, I guess,” John shrugged. He paused on the pavement, aware that he couldn’t just slip past him and head straight for the station.</p>
<p>Roger would ask questions.</p>
<p>Up until now, he’d gotten away with it by saying that his car was at the garage and Veronica would be picking him up from the car park across the road.</p>
<p>Roger smiled in response. “True. Why would you want to go anywhere else when you’ve got glorious weather like this?”</p>
<p>“I suppose.”</p>
<p>“Come for a drink with me.”</p>
<p>“I can’t. Veronica’s giving me a lift again.”</p>
<p>“I could just ring her and tell her not to bother.”</p>
<p>“No, I…I can’t, she’ll already be halfway here and—”</p>
<p>“Well if I’ve missed her, I’ll just invite her to come along.” Roger said, interrupting John’s poor attempt to get out of it. “Come on John, it’s been ages since we hung out. I’ll even buy the first round.”</p>
<p>John hesitated.</p>
<p>He could go back to the empty flat on Tottenham Road he was currently residing in and pour enough whiskey down his neck until he passed out. Or he could go to the pub with Roger.</p>
<p>“I suppose Veronica won’t mind me staying out for a bit.”</p>
<p>“Good man,” Roger grinned, clapping him on the back again. “I’ll go and let Veronica know to expect you a little later—”</p>
<p>“I can do that,” John said quickly, already side-stepping him in his rush to get back inside. “I’ll sweeten the deal by promising to bring her back some fish and chips. Just like I used to.”</p>
<p>Roger hesitated, a weird look in his eyes. Then it vanished and he smiled again. “Good idea. Meet you at the car?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I won’t be a sec.”</p>
<p>He waited until Roger began walking towards his Aston Martin before he headed back inside.</p>
<p>Michael smiled up at him from his desk. “Forget something, John?”</p>
<p>“Erm…no, I just need to use the bathroom.”</p>
<p>“Oh, fair enough mate.”</p>
<p>He locked himself in one of the Men’s cubicles and decided to give it another couple of minutes.</p>
<p>The pub was round the corner from Roger’s house. He parked the car in the drive, and they headed back on foot, with Roger insisting that they get a taxi back.</p>
<p>John stayed quiet as they walked into the pub.</p>
<p>It was conspicuous looking. There was a pool table, a fruit machine, and a dart board on the wall. There were a few people inside, mostly blokes catching up over a pint.</p>
<p>“You go grab a table, I’ll get the drinks in. Pint?”</p>
<p>John nodded and left Roger to it. He grabbed a table at the back. He reluctantly took his jacket off, aware that he might be there for some time.</p>
<p>“Nice place, this,” Roger said as he joined him with their drinks. “It’s not much, but the drinks are cheap, and the staff are friendly. Plus, they do a decent roast. Me, Dom, and Felix had lunch a couple of months ago, on our way back from visiting Mum and Trevor.”</p>
<p>John seized the opportunity.</p>
<p>“How are your Mum and Trevor these days?”</p>
<p>“Good, thanks. Settling into married life wonderfully. She keeps nagging me to pop the question to Dom. She reckons it’s about time.”</p>
<p>John smiled in response. “She’s got a point.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you start,” Roger teased as he sipped his pint. “Anyway, enough with all that. Now that you’ve got a drink in your hand, I feel no guilt for getting straight to the point. Why didn’t you say anything about you and Veronica having problems?”</p>
<p>John gaped at him, his glass almost slipping from his grasp.</p>
<p>“Or that you’ve been banned from driving for a year? It’s been six months, John. Did you think we wouldn’t realize eventually?”</p>
<p>He shrugged as he put his glass back down, staring at the menu on the table. “I’d hoped not. How did you find out anyway?”</p>
<p>“Dom rang Veronica for a catch-up, as it’s been a while. Think she assumed we already knew.”</p>
<p>“Yeah well, now you do. It’s not exactly something I want to talk about.”</p>
<p>Roger hummed as he sipped his pint again. “No. I can imagine not.”</p>
<p>John could still feel Roger’s gaze, burning into the top of his face. He looked back up and found that he was right. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”</p>
<p>“No, I am! I promise I will if that’s what you want. It’s just…where are you living now?”</p>
<p>John trailed his thumb over the condensation of the glass, his left hand heavy in his lap as he replied. “I’ve got a flat. Just for the time being.”</p>
<p>“Do you think you’ll get divorced?”</p>
<p>John flinched in response.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I just meant…” Roger trailed off with a sigh. “Do you reckon it’s something she’s thought about?”</p>
<p>John paused, remembering their argument the night he left…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m sick of this, John. I don’t know how much more I can take.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John shakily pushed his hair from his face. How had things gotten this bad? It was barely midday and he was already desperate for a drink.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I want you to move out—just for the time being,” she added quickly when his eyes widened. “For the Kids’ sake, at least. It’s not fair on them seeing you like this.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He reluctantly nodded, knowing she was right. He was being selfish.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But in the meantime…you need help. I mean it. If you don’t, I…well, I don’t know where this leaves us, I’ll be honest.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>John swallowed back the lump in his throat and forced a small nod.</p>
<p>“Oh John…shit mate, that’s so…”</p>
<p>“<em>Shit</em>?” John said for him when Roger trailed off uncertainly.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>He remained staring at his glass, wishing things were different. Wishing he could take it all back. He fought the urge to get up and flee, knowing Roger wouldn’t let him go that easily anyway.</p>
<p>“Look, why don’t you come and stay at mine? It’s not like we haven’t got enough spare rooms.”</p>
<p>John was shaking his head before he’d even finished speaking. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”</p>
<p>“You’re not. I’m offering.”</p>
<p>“Even still, I’m fine where I am. It shouldn’t be for much longer anyway.”</p>
<p>Roger nodded as he picked up his glass again. “All the more reason for you to stay with me and Dom. I promise I’ll drop the conversation. But only if you say yes.”</p>
<p>John stared at him whilst he contemplated the offer. Then he hummed in agreement, knowing it was probably his best choice if he wanted Roger to drop it. “Okay. Thanks.”</p>
<p>Roger immediately waved his gratitude away. “No worries. Come on, we’ll drink these. Then we’ll grab a taxi to your place and sort out your stuff. No time like the present, right?”</p>
<p>“I guess not,” John said nervously as he finished his pint, wondering what he’d let himself in for.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>John slowly took the phone from Roger, who mouthed <em>good luck</em> before he back out of the room to give John some privacy.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>“Hey John, how are you?”</p>
<p>His stomach flipped nervously at the sound of his wife’s voice. It had been a long few months. Made worst by the sparse visits to her and the kids.</p>
<p>“I’m…okay, thanks. How are you? How are the kids?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, we’re okay, thanks.” She said, pausing a moment. He could hear her take a steady breath down the line before she continued. “Listen, I was thinking about our phone call the other day. I’m glad you’re feeling better and that you’re getting help.”</p>
<p>John had been attending AA for the last couple of months. He hated every last second of it, but it would be worth it. If it meant getting his family back.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I am.”</p>
<p>“I was thinking, maybe we could meet sometime next week? So that we can talk about everything properly.”</p>
<p><em>That was a start, wasn’t it?</em> He thought hopefully.</p>
<p>“I’d like that.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>John’s heart felt like it was in his mouth as Brian continued to read out the lyrics to Roger’s new song.</p>
<p><em>It felt like a betrayal of the worst kind</em>.</p>
<p>Perhaps that was why Roger was bouncing his leg, his gaze downcast, and the slightest blush staining his cheeks.</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t drink and drive my car, don’t get breathalysed</em>,” Freddie repeated with a raised brow. “Interesting advice Roger, dear.”</p>
<p>Brian snorted in response. “I suppose it’s a step up from <em>I’m in Love with my Car</em>.”</p>
<p>“Still say it’s more poetic than <em>you call me sweet like I’m some kind of cheese</em>.”</p>
<p>“Any excuse to bring that one up,” Brian said with a roll of his eyes.</p>
<p>“Just like you do with my song, you lanky twat!”</p>
<p>“Ladies, ladies,” Freddie sighed loudly over the top of them. “There’s no need to get so vexed. Take a leaf out of my book. I could choose to still be bitter about the fact that Roger’s car song got the same amount of royalties as <em>Bo Rhap</em> purely just for being on the B-side. But I’m bigger than that.”</p>
<p>Crystal buried his face in his hands from the other side of the Perspex, seconds before Roger, having recovered enough to stop gaping, took the bait.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you’re so right, Freddie. Because <em>that</em> never gets mentioned much either, you aggravating arsehole!”</p>
<p>John sighed as they quickly began to bicker between themselves. He used their distractedness to slip out of the studio and have a cigarette. Smoking had become a bit of a vice. He supposed it was at least better than drinking himself into a stupor.</p>
<p>He was so lost in his own thoughts that he flinched a little when the front door swung open. Then frowned when he saw who it was.</p>
<p>“Great minds,” Roger said with a nervous chuckle, indicating the packet in his hand.</p>
<p>John said nothing as he took a drag of his own cigarette, going back to staring at the busy road in front of them.</p>
<p>Roger lifted the lighter to the tip of his cigarette. “I shouldn’t bite. It’s just that Freddie and Brian usually know what to say to wind me up. But I know you hate it when we bicker.”</p>
<p>“And you don’t bring it upon yourself, no?” John said, struggling to keep the bitter from his voice.</p>
<p>Roger sighed in response as he flicked the ash to the floor. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that.”</p>
<p>John remained silent.</p>
<p>“Sorry if I’ve upset you. It wasn’t personal though.”</p>
<p>That fuelled John’s anger more.</p>
<p>“Oh well then, I suppose I should be grateful.”</p>
<p>“It’s two lines out of a whole song. The other two won’t know it’s about you.”</p>
<p>“How do I know you haven’t already filled them both in for a lark? Maybe the three of you have been having a good laugh about it behind my back.”</p>
<p>Roger stared back at John, his expression hurt. “John, I…I would never do that. I know I can be a twat sometimes, but I would never break your trust, not about something as serious as this.”</p>
<p>John quickly looked away from his bright blue eyes, feeling guilty at how quickly he’d been ready to accuse.</p>
<p>“It’s just…this is personal. I didn’t expect you to go and write a song about it.”</p>
<p>“None of the other things are about you. I promise. It was just two lines that came into my head whilst you were staying with me, that’s all.”</p>
<p>John said nothing as he took a drag of his cigarette. But he felt relieved to hear Roger assure him of such.</p>
<p>“At least, things are back on track with Veronica. That’s something positive out of all this.”</p>
<p>The year had been a turbulent one. But things didn’t seem quite as pointless anymore. John had stopped drinking, and he’d just moved back home. Roger had been there for him every step of the way.</p>
<p>“Thanks for…well, <em>y’ know</em>. Being there. I don’t think I’d have gotten through it otherwise.”</p>
<p>Roger immediately shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me, John. That’s what friends are for. I like to think you’d have done the same for me.”</p>
<p><em>Friends will be friends. Right ‘til the end</em>.</p>
<p>It was a lyric that kept bouncing around in John’s head. He didn’t realise just how true it was until that moment.</p>
<p>“Course I would,” John said sincerely.</p>
<p>Roger smiled as they stomped out their cigarettes. “We should probably get back. I promise to be on best behaviour for the rest of the afternoon.”</p>
<p>John gave him a knowing look. Roger’s smile widened in response.</p>
<p>“Alright fine, I promise to at least <em>try</em> and be better behaved. But all bets are off if that poodle haired twat mentions that song again.”</p>
<p>John huffed in response. “I give it an hour, tops.”</p>
<p>“You know me so well, Deaks,” Roger cackled in response.</p>
<p>—</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! I hope you enjoyed that! I'm not quite sure I liked how this one turned out as much of the others, but hopefully, it was worth it, if people liked it. Looking forward to seeing what else people come up with! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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